Little Doe
by lonestark
Summary: Ellyana Baratheon is nothing but a painful reminder of the past to her father. His solution? Marry her off to the bastard of Winterfell, Jon Snow. How will this decision impact the future of Westeros and the war coming for the Seven Kingdoms? How will this stag survive when she's forced into the heart of the wolves' den? Very AU.
1. Prologue

**So, I've had this idea burning a hole in my brain for a while and I decided I was going to post it. It's very AU from the start as you can tell already but I want to give it a try. See if anyone likes it. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize.**

**Please let me know what you think.**

Ella Baratheon can hear her parents yelling from down the hall. She had intercepted a message for her mother and was bringing it to her chambers. Her Uncle Jaime is standing dutifully outside the doors of her father's quarters, their voices echoing out into the hallway. She slows her walk as she approaches, finally able to understand what they're yelling about. It's not the first time they've fought. In fact, it's a common occurrence in the Red Keep, stumbling across them amid an argument behind closed doors. But this time, as she nears her uncle, she can hear they're fighting about her.

"She's just a child, Robert."

"She's a woman, Cersei. It's high time she married. We need the allegiance between the North and the South."

She stops in front of her uncle, looking up at him. "Uncle Jaime?"

"Turn around, little doe. You need not hear this." Despite his words, Ella finds herself unable to move.

"You think you'll achieve this by marrying her to Eddard Stark's bastard like she's some common girl with no family name?"

"He'll only be a bastard until I legitimize him."

"Eddard Stark has a perfectly good trueborn son. Why not him?"

"Because this is the way I want it."

Ella can hardly believe what she's hearing. Her father is marrying her off? To a Northerner much less? She goes to push past her uncle, so many thoughts running through her head but he stops her, caging her in his arms. Her uncle is strong, no matter how hard she fights she can't get out of his grip.

"Calm yourself, little doe. Running in there in a rage won't solve anything." He whispers to her, her mother and father's voices lowering now.

"You have no right." Ella can hear the spite in her mother's voice.

"I am the King. I have the only right."

She hears footsteps approach the door, her mother opening it. She stops when she sees Ella and Ella spots a flash of surprise, but it happens so fast if she had blinked she would have missed it. Jaime releases her, the rage she'd been feeling a moment before having settled.

"Mother?"

"Let the girl in." She hears her father call. "She's heard enough, she might as well hear it all."

Her mother steps to the side, letting Ella enter her father's chambers. The sun is setting, painting the room in oranges and reds. He's sitting at his desk and for the first time in a long time, he does not have a glass of wine in front of him. Her mother flanks her as she approaches her father, the tension in the room thick.

"Come closer, girl." Her father beckons her over.

Girl. That was the name her father gave her. Her mother had named her Ellyana as her father had been so taken with her brother, his first-born son. She is the second-born child of Robert Baratheon, coming only minutes after her twin brother. Her mother had told her that her father had loved her when she was born. They were near identical, looking just like their father. But her brother had taken ill not long after his birth and died from a fever. Her father refused to acknowledge her for eight years after his death. Even still, she's haunted by her twin brother who never made it to his first name day. She can't remember her twin, but she had told her mother once she always felt like there was a piece of her missing. Her mother is a twin herself and told her that's where the connection with her twin brother would have been had he lived. Her father doesn't hate her, necessarily, but she can always see the longing look when he sees her. The wish that she had been the one to die and not her brother.

"You're marrying me off?" Ella speaks before her father can. The rage may have settled, but she's still angry.

"Yes. You know Jon Arryn has died, girl? The previous Hand to the King."

She nods. She had heard about it yesterday. "Yes, Father."

"I need a new Hand. We will ride North for Winterfell in two days. I intend to ask Eddard Stark to become my new Hand. While we are there, you will wed his son Jon."

"The bastard?"

Her father fixes her with a dark look. "I will legitimize him before the wedding and he will be a Stark when you wed him."

"I don't want to marry him."

"I don't care what you want, girl. It is time for you to take a husband and I have chosen Ned Stark's son."

"You can't do that! I don't want to live in the North, I want to stay here with my family!"

"You will do as I say, Ellyana."

She should have stopped there. She should have known her father was drawing close to the last of his patience when he called her by her name. But the fire is burning inside her again and the words are leaving her lips before she even realizes it. "I'll run away then. I'll sail across the Narrow Sea and live in the Free Cities. Or perhaps I'll go North over the wall and become a Wildling and you won't be able to tell me what to do ever again!"

The room is so silent the sound echoes across the room when her father's hand connects with her face. The force of it nearly sends her sprawling on the floor, but Ella catches herself on the edge of his desk. She keeps her face turned, biting her lip to keep the tears that pooling from falling. She will not cry in front of him.

It's not the first time he's struck her. The first time had been when she was a little girl after her mother had told her of her brother's death. She had made the mistake of speaking her brother's name in front of him. She had cried then. It had only made it worse. He'd struck her several times after that too. Her uncle Jaime told her she had her mother's mouth and her father's temper. Neither were a good mix and got her into more trouble than she should have gotten into.

"Get. Out." She can practically feel the rage coming off her father, no doubt he'll strike her again if she doesn't move.

She feels the gentle touch of her mother's hands pulling her away from her father's desk, her arms wrapping around her and leading her from her father's chambers. She keeps her head lowered, her lip starting to bleed from her teeth as she holds her tears in. Her father calls her uncle into his chambers as they pass, her mother leading her back to her own quarters.

She sits Ella in a chair at her table once they arrive, grabbing a bowl of cold water and a cloth before sitting next to her. "That was stupid of you, Ellyana."

Ella looks at her mother as she gently wipes the blood off her chin before pressing the cool cloth to her burning cheek. "I don't know why I said it."

"You were angry. You have your father's temper."

"I don't want to be married. I want to stay here in the South."

"I know. But your father has made his decision. You will be a lady of the North in less than two months."

"Father hates me so much he'd marry me to a bastard to get rid of me."

Her mother lifts her chin so she's looking into her eyes. It's the only part of Cersei she has, her eyes. The rest of her is Baratheon. "Your father doesn't hate you, Ellyana."

"I can see it when he looks at me. He wishes I had been the one to die. He won't even call me by my name unless he's angry. He did not even acknowledge me until I was eight."

"Your father does not handle his grief well. He lets the ghosts of those he's lost haunt him." Her mother has a bitter look on her face as she speaks. "I have tried to get you out of this arrangement, but your father is determined in his decision."

"I have to go North. I have to get married."

Her mother nods. "Yes. I have heard the bastard is handsome at least. Much like his father aside from just looks. He's kind hearted. Noble. Honest. He will treat you well."

"I don't even know him. I know none of them."

"You've met the Starks before. They came to King's Landing nine years ago, not long after your father became King."

"I was seven then, mother. I hardly remember it." She lets out a long breath. "I'm scared, Mother."

Her mother smiles softly at her. "You are a stag through and through, Ellyana. But do not forget you are also a lion. Do not be afraid. You can roar louder than the wolves can howl."


	2. Winterfell

**Wow! This story has gotten a better reaction than I thought it would! I totally meant to get this chapter out yesterday but I got busy and distracted and I was falling asleep by the time I was able to work on it again. But here it is! Please let me know what you think!**

**Guest: Thank you! I'm glad you like it so far! **

**Anime Princess: Catelyn is definitely going to have her reservations about this whole situation! It's definitely causing some ripples that might have their consequences. **

**fire1: Thank you! I hope you continue to enjoy it!**

**HPuni101: Thank you! Glad you're liking it!**

**Serenity10116: Thank you! Here's an update!**

* * *

They had been travelling for a month along the Kings Road and in that month Ella's nerves have only grown. The further they go North, the closer they get to her future. Her new life is waiting less than a day's ride away now, her betrothed and her new family. Her father hadn't spoken to her in the month they'd been travelling and the entire party had been rather glum. Perhaps it's the cold air and the lack of sun that's bringing everyone's spirits down. Ella misses the flowers, the bright colors that paint the Red Keep. Everything in the North is grey and dim and she's beginning to feel the bite of the cold against her skin.

They'd camped for the night a half a day's ride from Winterfell. Ella hardly slept the night before, tossing and turning all night due to her nerves. She knows she's being ridiculous. She's a princess, daughter of Robert Baratheon, King of the Seven Kingdoms. She's both stag and lion. She shouldn't be afraid going into the wolves' den.

Her mother had known she hadn't slept, personally waking her to make sure she looks presentable for her betrothed. Ella had let her do what she wanted, knowing if she tried to fight now she might me meeting her betrothed with a bruised cheek. So instead she had let her mother pull her hair up into a typical Southern fashion, dressing her in a long red dress with her fur-lined cloak over the top. She wants to protest when Ella pulls on her boots, but Ella is at least determined to ride into Winterfell. Perhaps the fresh air will help calm her nerves.

She rides in behind her uncle Jaime, her brother Joffrey behind her and the carriage following. They're surrounded by guards, quickly filling the small courtyard of Winterfell. She scans the crowd in front of her as she stops, a stable boy holding her horses' bridle. She's not even sure what her betrothed looks like, or if he'd even be standing there with them, given his current status as a bastard still. She doesn't get much of a chance to look them over before they all drop to one knee as her father rides in behind the carriage.

She watches him walk over to the crowd, stopping in front of the Lord Stark. He motions for them to rise, Lord Stark bowing as soon as he's standing, greeting her father. It's silent between them for a breath before her father speaks. "You've got fat." Lord Stark gives her father a look before they both start laughing, embracing each other.

He greets the other Starks, Jaime coming to her side to help her off her horse. She lets him and he squeezes her hand reassuringly. "Breathe, little doe. You don't want your first impression to be you passing out in front of them."

Joffrey scoffs next to her and she steels herself. He's right. She needs to act the part of a princess, not a scared child acting like she's being sold as a slave. Her mother steps forward to be greeted by the Starks, her father finished greeting everyone. He demands to be taken to the crypts to which Lord Stark agrees to, leaving Lady Stark to take care of the guests.

* * *

"Tell me about Jon Arryn." Eddard Stark asks as he and King Robert walk through the crypts.

"One minute he was fine and then...burned right through him, whatever it was. I loved that man."

"We both did."

"He never had to teach you much, but me? You remember me at 16?" They both chuckle. "All I wanted to do was crack skulls and fuck girls. He showed me what was what."

"Aye." Ned hides a smile.

"Don't look at me like that. It's not his fault I didn't listen." Robert stops walking, turning to face Ned. "I need you, Ned - Down at King's Landing, not up here where you're no damn use to anybody. Lord Eddard Stark, I would name you the Hand of the King."

Ned kneels in front of Robert. "I am not worthy of the honor."

"I'm not trying to honor you. I'm trying to get you to run my kingdom while I eat, drink and whore myself into an early grave. Damn it, Ned, stand up." Robert hits his shoulder and Ned stands back up. "You helped me win the Iron Throne. Now help me keep the damn thing. We were meant to rule together. If your sister had lived we'd have been bound by blood. We'll it's not too late. I have a daughter, you have a son. I intend for us to join our houses. In two week's time we'll have a wedding."

"Two weeks, your grace?" Ned asks in disbelief.

"Yes." Robert says, starting to walk again. "I've got everything planned already. I'll legitimize your bastard and he'll marry my daughter in two week's time."

"Jon? You want Ellyana to marry Jon?" Ned asks, catching up to Robert.

"Did I stutter, Ned?" Robert asks.

"Does she know?"

He nods. "Yes. She's known since before we left King's Landing."

"And she's agreed to this?"

"It was never her choice, Ned."

* * *

"He's marrying her to your bastard?" Catelyn Stark was taking the news about as well as he expected. "And you've agreed to this?"

"It's the King's will, Cat. Even if I disagreed, it wouldn't have made any difference. Robert will legitimize Jon and he will marry Princess Ellyana as a Stark."

"What about Robb? Our trueborn son, our first-born son. He should be married first. Not Jon."

Ned sighs. "He doesn't want her to marry Robb, Cat. I cannot give you a reason why. But that is his final decision. They will marry in two weeks and she will stay in the North while her family returns South."

Cat stays silent, staring into the fire. How had this happened? Her husband's bastard son would marry the first-born daughter of the Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. Not their first trueborn son. The bastard. He would carry a Stark name and be not only heir to Winterfell after their three trueborn sons, but if the circumstances ever called for it, the princess would sit on the Iron Throne and her husband's bastard would sit next to her.

"You are sure there is no way to change his mind?"

Ned shakes his head. "He's had his mind made up since before he left King's Landing. There is no changing it now."

* * *

"Where is your son, Ned? I will meet him now."

They were sitting in Lord Stark's office, Robert having just legitimized Jon as Ned's heir. Cersei, Ned and Catelyn were also there to witness it. Ned sends a guard to retrieve Jon, the confused boy arriving a few moments later. He greets the King and Queen, and then his father and Lady Stark.

Robert glances over the boy quickly. He's prettier than the other Stark boy. "So. You're the son of the woman who made the ever honorable Eddard Stark forget he had honor for a moment." Everyone in the room, except perhaps Robert, can feel the tension at his words. Catelyn holds her tongue despite the anger she feels rising in her at the King's words. "Well, you're no bastard anymore, boy. I've legitimized you as Eddard Stark's son."

"Y-Your grace?" Jon can hardly believe what he's hearing.

Robert looks up at the boy again. He's a Stark, no doubt. The more he stares at him, the more he sees Lyanna in him. He shakes his head, clearing his thoughts. He needs more wine. "You're a Stark now in name, boy."

"I-I...thank you, your grace, but I...don't understand...why?"

He turns to Cersei. "Go fetch the girl." Cersei leaves the room, going to fetch her daughter from the guest houses. Robert glances up at the boy as he pours himself more wine. "I have a daughter, boy. Pretty thing. More stag than lion compared to the other three. She's almost a year younger than you, but she's a woman grown and flowered as your customs say." Robert takes a drink of his wine. "You will marry her in a fortnight."

"M-Me?"

"It's an honor, boy."

Jon's saved from having to answer by the door opening, the Queen stepping in, her daughter behind her. All eyes turn to the girl. Jon doesn't quite know what to think when he sees his betrothed. She looks like a Baratheon. Thick, dark hair is piled on her head, a few strands framing her heart-shaped face. Her skin is golden colored from the sun in the South but there's a light dusting of pink on her cheeks, most likely from the cold. Her eyes are green, the same eyes as her mother he realizes. He's smaller than him by half a head, but her frame is thin under her red dress and cloak. She's beautiful, he muses. Not in the regal way her mother is, but in a soft way. Like a flower covered in frost when the first light of the morning hit it. She's exactly what he pictures when Sansa raves about the princesses in her fairytales she loves so much. She's a real princess though, and he, the boy who had been a bastard his entire life until just a few moments ago, would marry her.

* * *

Ella knows this is the moment she had been waiting for. Her mother had told her she'd more than likely have to wait until her father finished in the crypt before she would meet her betrothed. Her mother had gotten her way and convinced her father to wait until he had legitimized the Stark boy before introducing them. She would meet her betrothed as a Stark, not a bastard. She could levy that much dignity for her daughter.

Ella lets her eyes scan the room before she finally lets them rest on her betrothed. He's staring at her with a mix of shock and awe on his face. It's a gentle face, she realizes. He had met Robb after her father had left. He was handsome, but he was too noble. Her mother had told her the Starks were noble, honorable people. Those were just a few words that described the way Robb looked. But he had lacked the tenderness that Jon has.

Ella lets her eyes roam finally, focusing on his face and she finds the softest pair of brown eyes she's ever seen. They're deep like the earth a tree's roots dig to. They're deep with emotion too, the softness in them reflecting the softness inside. He's taller than she had thought, half a head taller than her. He's built stronger than Robb. Where he's more lean, Jon has more strength to his frame. She lets her eyes wander over him, breaking their gaze. His skin is fair, pouty lips drawn into a line. His face is framed by dark, thick curls that have been smoothed down around his face. He's clean shaven, by the orders of Lady Stark no doubt.

She offers him her hand finally, letting him take her smaller one in his larger one. His hand is calloused and warm, but not unpleasant. "Princess." He brings her hand to his lips like his father had done, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

"Lord Jon." She smiles at him softly. She's been told she looks like her Uncle Renly when she smiles.

Her father breaks her trance with his words, her eyes finally leaving Jon. "Girl, come."

She feels a strike of shame run through her like lightning, burning through the hopeful feelings she'd been having. He hadn't even had the decency to use her name in front of the Starks, and her betrothed. He's probably drunk already and has forgotten her name by now. He uses it so little she's surprised when she hears it come from him. Regardless of her shame for her father's attitude, she holds her head high, approaching her father's seat.

"I have made the Starks aware of the second reason for our journey to Winterfell, girl. Ned has agreed to the arrangement. Two weeks and you will be married here in Winterfell." He sweeps his eyes over the Starks. "You may go. I expect to see you _all _at the feast tonight."

* * *

Ella's mother makes her change for the feast that's being held in their honor that night. She would have been perfectly comfortable in her travelling dress, but her mother insists she needs to look especially good. She has to impress the Stark boy. She decides on a blue dress with gold accents embroidered in. It's wide necked, the tops of her breasts revealed by the low cut and the sleeves are long to protect her from the Northern air.

"You won't have to try hard to make him like you." Her mother says, putting her gold stag's head necklace around her neck. It had been a gift from her grandfather Tywin for her tenth nameday.

"Because he couldn't take his eyes off me?"

Her mother smiles at her, cupping her face. "Because you are beautiful without having to try, child. Having a pretty face will make it easier for you."

She pulls away from her mother, turning back to the vanity. "He's not like that, mother." She thinks about the softness in Jon's face, those deep eyes showing the truth about his heart. "He has kind eyes."

"I thought your father had kind eyes when we were married."

"Just because I'm being forced into a marriage like you were does not mean it will be the same as your marriage."

"All men are the same, Ellyana." Her mother spins her back so they're eye to eye, gripping her wrists tight in her hands. "Only a foolish child would think a man could be kind and honorable. He'll hurt you, Ellyana. You'll only be disappointed in the end when you realize your sole purpose to him is to bear his children. He'll go off whoring every night and come home with a bastard of his own in his arms and force you to care for it like it's your own." Her grip gets tighter, making Ella wince but her mother seems to take no notice. "You'll lay there with your legs open for him on your wedding night while he takes you like a dog takes a bitch in heat and when he finishes, he'll moan another woman's name in your ear-" Her mother cuts off abruptly, Ella's eyes wide as she stares up at her. Her mother takes a step back, steeling herself instantly. "I will see you at the high table. Do not be late."

Ella watches the door to her temporary chambers close behind her mother. She sinks back onto her stool, letting her mother's words run through her head again. Her hand maid finishes piling her hair on her head, Ella so numb she doesn't even bother to make a sound when the maid stabs her with a pin. She knows there's no love between her mother and father. Only a fool would think that. But she'd had no idea just how long it had been going on. But a part of her still thinks Jon won't be like that. The Starks value honor and family above everything else. She can't find it in herself to think he could become a man like her father. Or at least, she can hope he won't.


	3. The Feast

**Alright, so here's the third part. Ella and Jon finally get to have some alone time, though not much. I promise things will start picking up in the next chapter.**

**fire1: ****I'll be telling the story, at least for a bit in the beginning from a couple different points of view. I always find it's more interesting to have more than one point of view in relation to the story. And to answer your question, they're going to live in Winterfell at least for a while. I can't give too much away though, it might spoil things.**

**Serenity10116: Thank you! Glad you're still enjoying it.**

**Blizzarddragon777: I'm keeping that ambiguous for a reason! Everyone will find out why Robert chose Jon soon. But for now I can't divulge too much!**

* * *

Ella has always found comfort with food. When she was young, she'd sneak into the kitchens of the Red Keep and steal scraps while the cooks weren't looking. If her father had been particularly rude or angry with her for her existence, she'd sneak into the stores and hide in a corner with a loaf of bread or some dried meat or fruit and eat until the pain and sadness faded. She had been rather fat as a baby, and even as a child she had been round-faced and chubby. But when she failed to lose that chubbiness as she grew into a young woman her mother would cut her back on her meals. "A princess does not eat like a starving man," her mother had said. But no matter how hard her mother tried to cut her back, she never slimmed down. So her mother had gone to desperate measures, letting her train with her Uncle Jaime. He was hard on her, especially at first, training her for hours early in the morning.

Eventually Ella slimmed down, working for hours every day with her Uncle Jaime learning to fight combated her comfort eating habits. She still has curves, child-birthing hips her Septa had told her and plentiful breasts her mother was intent on her showing. "If you have it, show it." Again her mother's wisdom.

Ella hardly realizes she's comfort eating again at the feast, nearly clearing a plate before her mother pinches her leg under the table. A princess does not eat like a starving man. She's not just a princess, either. She's sitting before those who will be her people in two week's time. She has to make a good impression. Her father on the other hand, is not too worried about impressions. He's drunk now, drunk enough to be in the room's middle, making himself comfortable with a serving girl.

Ella lets her eyes drop to the table below the high table again. Jon had been sitting there with the rest of the Stark children, but he had disappeared at some point when Ella had been distracted either by the food or her drunk father. It's getting stuffy inside the hall, Ella's dress tight from sitting for so long.

"Where are you going?" Her mother asks as she stands.

"I need a breath of fresh air."

"Don't stay out too long." Her mother's words are kindly spoken, but she sees the warning in her eyes.

Lady Stark smiles at her as she passes, leaving the hall by a side door. The air outside is chilly compared to the air in the hall, Ella's breath steaming out in front of her. She finds herself in the courtyard, empty aside from the many guards in place. She steps away from the hall, breathing in the clean air. Even in the castle the air smells cleaner than the Red Keep. There's a bite to it too, not the suffocating kind from the heat, but the icy bite of the cold. She finds it's a sweet relief to the warmth from the hall packed with bodies.

She pulls the pins out of her hair, letting it fall down her back. She runs her fingers through the dark waves, letting them relax from being pulled up so tightly. Her attention is drawn away from her hair by the sound of someone hitting a practice dummy with a sword. She knows the sound, having done the same many times before. She picks up her skirts, making her way to the training grounds out of curiosity. It had seemed like all of Winterfell was inside the Great Hall, but perhaps she had found the only other person who had ducked out of the feast.

Jon is still in his dress clothes, hacking away at a practice dummy with a sword. Ella approaches slowly, watching him. His moves aren't calculated, hacking more out of frustration than actual practice. She stops a few feet from him, keeping back far enough to be out of reach of a wild swing of his sword.

"Enjoying yourself?"

He spins around, steadying himself on the dummy from the speed of his turn. "Princess. I didn't know you were there."

She smiles softly. "I heard you practicing. Not enjoying the feast, Lord Jon?"

"Please, just call me Jon. And I could only take so much of Lady Stark's disproving stares, princess."

She steps closer to him. "If I am to call you Jon, then I must insist you call me Ella."

He smiles a little at her. "You're not at the feast either, Ella."

She feels a shiver run down her spine when he says her name. She finds it much more pleasant to hear him say her name than to hear him call her princess. "My father is drunk and groping one of your servant girls in the middle of the hall. Plus, it was getting warm in the hall."

Jon glances up at her. "I thought you would like the heat, being from the South."

"I like warmth. But heat gets stifling quickly. One can only stand so much heat before it gets tiring." Ella lets her gaze drop to the dirt below her feet. "So. We are to be married soon."

She sees Jon nodding in her peripheral vision. "I never thought I would be the one marrying before Robb."

"Much less to a princess, right?" She looks up at him again.

He nods. "Yes. I don't know why the king would choose me over Robb."

Ella shakes her head. "I do not know why either. Our conversation was cut off before I could ask that question." Ella frowns, remembering that night over a month ago and how it had ended.

They fall into silence for a few moments, broken by the sound of hoofbeats coming near. Ella doesn't miss the way Jon steps in front of her protectively, the sword gripped in his hand. She watches him, knowing no one who would pose a threat would get inside the castle with her father's guard stationed at the entrances and outside the walls. But she's touched by the motion, a warmth spreading through her chest.

They both watch as the rider appears, coming to a stop in front of the stables. Jon relaxes, stepping closer to the rider as he recognizes who it is. "Uncle Benjen." Jon approaches the rider as he gets off his horse, and they greet each other with a hug. Ella steps forward, Jon turning to her. "This is Princess Ellyana Baratheon, my betrothed."

She offers her hand, Jon's uncle Benjen bowing and kissing her knuckles, but not before giving Jon a look. "Princess. It is an honor."

"The honor is mine, Ser." She says with a smile.

"No Ser, my lady. Just Benjen." He smiles. It's a kind smile that the other Stark men seem to share.

"What are you doing here?" Jon asks his uncle.

"I rode all day. Didn't want to leave you alone with the Lannisters." He turns to Ella. "No offense of course, my lady."

Ella grins, laughing. "None taken. I've heard we can be hard to handle."

"Why are you both not at the feast?"

"Getting some fresh air." Jon answers. Benjen looks between them for a moment before something draws his gaze behind Ella.

"Ellyana." Ella sighs when she hears her Uncle Jaime's voice.

"She sent you, didn't she?" She says without turning around.

"She's worried about you. She gave me very explicit instructions to bring you back."

Ella smiles softly at the Starks in front of her. "It was nice meeting you, Benjen." She turns to Jon. "I will see you later, Jon."

She turns then, picking up her skirts as she walks back to her Uncle. He stares at them for a moment before turning, following his niece back to the Hall. "How upset is she?" Ella asks her Uncle.

"She's not happy." Jaime says, strolling along. "But I think if you tell her you were with your betrothed she may be less upset."

Ella scoffs. "She hates the idea of me marrying him."

"And what do you think?"

Ella stops walking. It's the first time someone has asked her what she thinks about the marriage. Everyone had just expected her to go along with it like a perfect, obedient princess she's supposed to be. "I hated the idea at first."

"Yes, I heard about that." Jaime says. He had been standing outside when his niece had voiced her opinion about the marriage.

"I'm still not comfortable with it. But Jon is kind. Mother says it's stupid to think that, but I can see it in his eyes. He's had all this thrown on him in a single day while I've had a month to think about this, but he doesn't look at me like how Father looks at mother. He could hate me for ruining his life. For being forced into something he's had no say in. We don't even know each other, we've spoken for no more than ten minutes together and still...he doesn't look at me with any hate in his eyes. Mother says I'm childish to think men can be honorable and caring."

Jaime cups her chin, lifting her face. "You are not your mother. Your mother is ruled by a sense of duty. Years of putting up with your father has hardened her. You, little doe, have heart. Your mother is strong, but you have your own strengths different from hers." He releases her, offering his arm. "Come. If I delay you any further, your mother may come and find us herself."

"Gods help us if that happens." Ella says, letting her uncle escort her back into the Hall.

* * *

Ella wakes early the next morning despite the late night she had. The light coming in her window is grey, reminding her of where she is. Despite this she pulls on a pair of leggings and a tunic, slipping on her riding boots and her sword. She slips out the door, heading back to the training grounds to get in some practice. Her mother would be livid if she gained any weight before her wedding.

Jaime is already there when she arrives. He smiles at her, already warming up. "I didn't think you'd show up."

"What makes today any different from any other day?" She asks, stretching her arms.

"Well, you haven't practiced in a month, and we both had late nights last night."

"Worried you'll be a little slow?" She smirks at him, holding her sword as they begin to circle each other.

"Only worried for your sake." He smirks, lunging forward but his strike is blocked by Ella.

She takes a defensive stance, blocking his blows as he deals them. He holds back, never having used his full strength with her. His sister would have his head if he hurt her or gave her a bruise where it would be seen. They spar back and forth for a while, both attempting to deliver blows to the other. A crowd forms, the Stark boys coming out to train as part of their daily routine, spotting the two already sparring.

Ella's arms are already burning from the month off of training during their travelling, but she presses forward, using her size against Jaime's to slip in, hitting his sword close to the hilt. She uses his weight against him, using his swing to her advantage, bending his hand back forcing him to drop his sword. It lands in the dirt a few feet away, her own sword stopping inches from his face. The crowd erupts in applause, Ella curtseying to them before sheathing her sword.

Lord Stark approaches her, and she wipes the sweat from her face. "I had no idea you know how to fight, princess."

She smiles at him. "My Uncle Jaime started teaching me a few years back. My mother thought it would be good for me."

"She's a good student. Better than most of the boys I've trained." Jaime says, smiling affectionately at his niece.

A guard approaches them through the dispersing crowd of guards. "Excuse me, Lord Stark, Ser Jaime. The Queen has requested Princess Ellyana's presence at once."

Ella sighs. "Excuse me, Lord Stark."

Eddard watches Ella walk away with the guard, Jaime smirking after her. "Your boy is in for a wild ride with that one. She may look a delicate flower on the outside, but she'll beat you black and blue with the dull edge of a blade if you let her."

Ned glances at Jaime. "That's not a bad thing. It takes that kind of strength to survive in the North."

"It must irk you to know your bastard will marry a princess before your oldest son ever gets the chance."

Ned glares at the Lannister before him. "It is what the King wants. So I will see it done." He turns, walking away from the Kingslayer.

"Ever the loyal follower, Stark." Jaime calls after him, smirking at his retreating back.

* * *

Ella spends the day with her mother and Lady Stark preparing for the wedding. There's much to do, much to plan for. In truth, Ella is rather bored of planning, often finding her gaze wandering to the window. She would have much rather been outside, exploring her new home, even talking with Jon to get to know him. Even after their talk the night before they still don't know hardly anything about each other. Ella would have preferred to have time to get to know him before the wedding, but she must make due with the little time she has.

She slips away after their midday meal, wandering the castle to get to know her new home. She finds herself missing the red stone of King's Landing, the flowers, the stone walkways. She's given up trying to keep her dress clean, something her mother will be upset about but it can't be helped.

"I saw you fight the Kingslayer." Ella turns when she hears a voice.

"You're Arya. Lord Stark's youngest daughter."

She nods. "And you're the princess."

Ella likes the girl's bold spirit already. "Ella. That's what everyone calls me."

"Where did you learn to fight like that?"

"My Uncle Jaime started teaching me when I was around your age."

"I've always wanted to learn to fight. It's not proper for ladies to learn to fight though. At least that's what my mother told me."

"It may not be proper, but if ladies were proper all the time they'd be boring." Arya smiles at her. "I'm sure if you asked your father he would say yes."

She nods, looking down for a moment. "You're marrying Jon, aren't you?" Ella nods. "Yes. It's what my father wants, and so it will happen."

"Did you ever think to say no to him?"

Ella laughs. "The last time I said no to my father's commands he turned so red he looked as if he might explode."

Both girls laugh, but Ella finds herself with a bittersweet taste on her tongue. If Lord Stark agrees to become Hand of the King, Arya would ride South with him. She would have preferred to have the younger Stark stay in Winterfell. Perhaps she would have felt more comfortable.


	4. The Godswood

**I'm on a roll today. Yes, the wedding is coming in the next chapter. I had some things I had to take care of first before I got there. **

**HPuni101: I'll get to revealing why it's Jon soon, don't worry!**

**fire1: I do fast updates when I'm on a roll, which I'm in right now. **

**Blizzarddragon777: Exactly! I gotta keep y'all interested somehow! **

* * *

"The seamstress says your dress will be finished by this evening. You'll have to try it on. See if it will still fit you." There's a bite to the words as they're spoken.

Ella sighs. "It will fit, mother." She can see her mother's reflection in the looking glass and the disgusted look on her face.

"Not with the way you've been eating."

Ella scoffs, her handmaid finishing lacing her dress up. "Being stick thin won't keep me alive in the North, Mother."

"You'll look like your father if you continue to eat the way you do."

Ella feels the fire of rage light in her again and she turns on her mother. "I'm sorry I may not be thin and perfect like you make yourself out to be. But at least I'm not a royal bitch." She's expecting it this time, and she catches her mother's hand before it can make contact with her face. She shoves it away from her. "Save your hand for someone else. Maybe use it on Joffrey. Teach him to be less of a beast." She turns on her heel, leaving her room.

She ignores the calls of her mother behind her, hurrying down the stairs and out into the courtyard. She's practically shaking in rage, not even bothering to pick up her skirts as she marches through the courtyard, making her way to the Godswood. She's never been inside a Godswood before, and as soon as she enters it's like the sounds outside the walls encompassing it fade away. There's a peaceful silence over the Godswood and Ella feels her rage diminishing. She makes her way towards the center of the Godswood to the heart tree. She'd been born into the Faith of the Seven, worshiping them since she was a little girl. But as she nears the heart tree, she finds she's more comfortable in the Godswood than she had ever felt in a Sept.

She sits on the ground in front of the heart tree, staring up at the face carved into the weirwood. She's not sure what to do, so she lets her mind wander, resting her head on her knees. She keeps finding she's drawn back to the face in the bark, blank eyes staring right back at her. There's a buzzing sound in her ears, like an energy pulsing in the air around her but she feels nothing on her skin. She keeps her gaze on the face, the buzzing sound getting louder and louder, red tears falling out of the eyes on the tree.

A twig snapping breaks her from her daze and she turns, startled. "Jon." She relaxes when she sees him standing near to where she's sitting. Her heart is still in her throat, but her fear is gone.

"Ella. I didn't mean to startle you."

Ella shakes her head, taking in a breath. "I was just lost in thought."

A white wolf pup runs out from behind Jon, approaching her slowly. He's gorgeous, pure white fur with red eyes staring into hers. "Who is this?" She asks, holding her hand out slowly.

"His name's ghost. He's a Direwolf pup."

"A Direwolf? I thought there weren't any Direwolves South of the Wall anymore."

"We found one on a ride a month and a half ago. She had pups. Six of them."

"One for each of the Stark children."

Jon nods, stepping closer as ghost licks at Ella's hand. "He was the runt of the litter. He's found his strength, though."

"Just like his master." Ella pets Ghost's head, feeling the soft fur run through her fingers.

It's silent between them for a few moments, Jon sitting on one of the heart tree's roots, facing Ella. "I didn't know you worshiped the Old Gods."

Ella smiles. "I don't. Well, I didn't. But I am to be a lady of the North in three day's time. I might as well get used to praying to them now."

"Lady Stark has a Sept if you'd be more comfortable there."

"That's kind, but the Seven have no power in the North, just as the Old Gods have no power in the South. Or, at least according to my Septa that's true."

"Do you believe her?"

Ella thinks a moment before nodding. "Yes."

It's silent again, Ella scratching Ghost's stomach as he pants happily on the ground. Jon watches her, seeing how the corners of her lips are pulled up in a smile as she pets Ghost. Her hair is loose again, the dark waves framing her face. He'd thought her hair was black the first time he'd seen her, but now he can see the tint of brown in it with the sun shining. Their children will be dark-haired and pretty according to Theon.

"Can I ask you something?" He finally breaks the silence, gaining her attention. She nods, letting him know he can continue. "Your father, every time he's addressed you that I've seen, he's never used your name. He calls you 'girl.' Why is that if it's not too forward for me to ask?"

She smiles, but it's a bitter smile. "We're getting married, Jon. You're allowed to ask me things like that." She tucks her legs under her, Ghost running off around the other side of the heart tree when she stops petting him. She's silent for a moment, staring at a point in the distance. "I'm not my father's firstborn like everyone thinks. I was born after my twin brother. My father loved my brother more than anything, my mother told me. He loved him so much he never held me until a day after I was born. My mother had to name me, he was so enamoured with his first-born son. But, two months after we were born, my brother caught a fever. He didn't even make it a week before he was gone. It destroyed my father. It destroyed him so much he hardly acknowledged my existence for eight years. All I've ever been is a ghost of what he could have had." She's silent again for a moment, her eyes fixed on the ground now. "That's part of why he's marrying me to a Northerner. The further away I am from him, the less of a reminder he has of the daughter who survived when his son could not. I understand you better than you think, Jon Stark. We're both ghosts." A breeze rustles through the leaves of the heart tree, a single red leaf dropping from a branch, landing in Ella's lap.

Jon watches her as she picks the leaf up, holding it in front of her face. "Is that why he's marrying us? Because we're both alike?"

Ella is silent for a moment. "I think he thinks he's punishing me. I lived when Steffon didn't. I'm not worthy of marrying the trueborn heir of the Warden in the North. I'm not worthy of any highborn Southern Lord." She continues to study the leaf for a moment before looking up at him. "I'm glad it's you, Jon. I've watched my parents fight through a loveless marriage for sixteen years. My mother tried to instill in me the reality that I would have the same. I would marry a cruel, drunk man who would whore his way to an early grave and have no compassion for me or the children I'd push out every few years. But I never believed her. You're kind, Jon. You're not like any highborn man I've ever met. I'm glad I'm marrying you."

Jon mulls over her words for a minute. They hadn't had much time to talk or spend together between being with the King and planning for the wedding. They only saw glimpses of each other, usually at dinner from opposite sides of the table. In three days they'd be man and wife, one heart and soul in the eyes of the gods. They'd share a life, and he wants her to be happy in that life. Everything had happened so suddenly for him, getting legitimized as a Stark and then finding out he's marrying a princess. It had been a shock for him, he can only imagine what it was like for her when she found out. Maybe it's the Stark in him, or maybe it's just the way he is, but he wants to take care of her. He wants her to be at least happy with him.

"I want you to be happy." He finally says. "Everyone says I'm the most like my father, putting honor and family first above everything else. I want to be happy with you, take care of you. All I want is for you to be as happy as you can be here, stuck with me."

She smiles at him again. "Thank you, Jon. I...I hope you'll be happy with me too, despite the circumstances."

"I think I will be. You're not like your mother or your father. At least not completely. You're the best of them both, as far as I've seen." Jon stands up, moving closer to her, offering her a hand. "We've missed breakfast. I can get us food if you're hungry."

She smiles up at him. "Starving." She takes his hand, letting him pull her up. She had been right about him being strong. She's close to him now, closer than she has ever been. She can feel the warmth radiating off him, the smell of pine and leather and something spicy meeting her nose. She keeps her hand in his, staring up at him from under her lashes.

He reaches up with his free hand, taking a lock of her hair between his fingers, letting it slide across his skin. It's as soft as silk and he can smell the lavender in the soap she'd used. "You should wear your hair down more often. It looks better."

She smiles, reaching up with her own hand, tugging lightly on one of his curls. "Don't cut your hair before the wedding. I like it like this." She lets her hand drop to his jaw, her fingers light as feathers as they ghost over his stubble covered skin. "I like this too." She bites her lip, her fingers trailing down his jaw before her hand cups his cheek. She stands on her toes, taking a breath for courage before pressing her lips to his.

Jon is so shocked he can't remember to kiss her back. Her lips are soft and plush against his own, her body warm as it presses against his. Her fingers have laced with his, holding him there. She pulls away quickly, turning her head and mumbling apologies. Her cheeks are flushed pink and he brings his hand to cup her face this time, feeling the warmth of her skin under his hand. He leans down, capturing her lips again. He kisses her back this time, feeling the softness of her body as it presses against him. A breeze blows through the branches again, a few leaves dancing around them on their way to the ground.

Ella pulls away from him slightly, looking up at him with kiss-swollen lips. "I want to get married here."

"You want a Northern ceremony?"

She nods. "Yes. I want to be married in front of the Old Gods."

He nods. "Then we shall be." He squeezes her hand. "But first, we should eat."

She grins, releasing his hand to take his arm. "I think this marriage may get along just fine."

He laughs, turning and whistling for Ghost. Ella catches sight of the heart tree as she turns too. The red tears she had seen earlier are no longer there. In fact, there's no sign there had been any tears at all. A strange feeling runs down her spine and she quickly turns, leaving the Godswood with Jon.

* * *

"Lady Stark has offered us use of her Sept for the wedding." Ella's father says as they're gathered in his chambers. They're completing the last of the wedding plans and everything is feeling suddenly real to Ella. The last two weeks had all been a haze of planning and talking about the wedding, but it hadn't sunk in until now that it is really happening.

"I want to get married in the Godswood." Ella says before anyone can say anything else.

"You're a Southerner, girl. You worship the Seven."

"You're so hell bent on making me a Northerner, I only find it appropriate that I marry as one."

Robert stares at his daughter for a moment, a tense silence filling the room before he starts laughing. "Do you see that? She's got that Northern stubbornness in her already."

"Ellyana, that's hardly appropriate-"

Her father cuts her mother off with a wave of his hand. "The girl wants to marry in front of the Old Gods then she'll get married in front of the Old Gods." Her father takes a drink of his wine, glancing at Jaime. "Go let Ned know there's been a change of plans, Kingslayer."

* * *

"You still don't agree with the wedding." Ned says later that night in his chambers with Catelyn. She's finishing the embroidery on Arya's dress for the wedding. He can see the resentment on her face still.

"I still think it should have been Robb."

"Robert has his reasons for marrying Ellyana to Jon. Whatever those reasons may be, we have to respect them."

"It's easier for you to accept it, Ned. He's your bastard."

"He's not my son." The words are out before Ned can stop them. He had wanted to tell her so many times. She held so much anger and resentment towards a boy she did not know the truth about.

"Ned?"

He moves from his spot by the fire to the door, making sure no one is outside before shutting and locking it. He moves to her side, keeping his voice low. "What I am about to tell you cannot leave this room."


	5. The Wedding

**Alright! It's finally here! The wedding! Hopefully I did it justice!**

**Lord Anubis Judge of the dead: Thank you! Glad you like it so far.**

**Blizzarddragon777: I thought it would be nice to let them meet before the wedding at least!**

**Serenity10116: Sorry it took so long! I've been fighting a headache all day!**

**Anime Princess: You'll have to wait and see!**

**Guest: Thank you! I can understand in some circumstances them having a Southern wedding because I believe Ned and Cat had a Southern wedding but I just figured Ella would be the kind of person who would want to keep things as traditional as possible and marrying under the gods that rule the land she's getting married in. **

**brookiee95: Thank you for reading it! I'm glad you're enjoying it!**

* * *

It surprises Jon when Lady Stark knocks on his door. It's the day of the wedding, everyone having all day to prepare now since the ceremony won't be until after dark. Jon lets her enter his room where he had been finishing getting ready. He is dressed in clothes specially made for the occasion. Sansa had done the embroidery on the sleeves for him, the outfit all black for the occasion.

"Lady Stark." He greets her, closing the door as she walks into his room. It would be Ella's room after tonight too.

Catelyn turns, looking over Jon. "You look handsome, Jon." She looks over his face. "You didn't shave?"

"Ella wanted me to keep it."

She nods in understanding. "You will make her very happy. You're a good boy, Jon. You're more like Ned than any of the others. You deserve more respect than I've ever shown you."

"You don't have to do this, Lady Stark."

"No, I do." She looks at his face. Ned had been right. She had never looked at him closely before. There's no denying the Stark in him, but the more she stared, the more she found Lyanna in him. "You're beginning a new part of your life today. You're marrying a strong girl who's known nothing but being a Southern Princess. I can see why King Robert chose you. She would not have had a happy marriage if it had been Robb. He would constrain her too much. Try to make her be someone she's not. But with you...she'll be happy. She can be herself. More so than I think they have allowed her to be."

Jon nods. "I want her to be herself. I want her to be happy. I don't want her to have the same marriage her mother has with her father."

Lady Stark grimaces a little. She had seen firsthand how the Queen was treated by her husband. "Good. You are honorable, Jon. Don't lose that honor." She squeezes his shoulder gently before leaving the room, and a startled Jon behind her.

* * *

Ella is tired before the wedding even begins. She had been poked and prodded and laced tightly into a dress that fit her just fine, but her mother had insisted on her not being able to breathe. The dress is long-sleeved, covering her shoulders but dips in the front to reveal her breasts. She had wanted the front closed completely, but her mother had insisted on leaving it open. _If you have it, show it. _She had at least won her way with her hair, insisting that Jon preferred her hair down. So it was pulled halfway up, the rest of it falling down her back. The golden circlet of twisted branches is placed on her head, something she only ever wore during important public events. She guessed her wedding counted as an important public event.

Her mother had fussed over her all day and she was ready when they finally cleared out, letting her father come in, carrying her maiden's cloak. It's half gold, half red with the lion and stag sigils on the back. He looks her over and for the first time she sees something other than disappointment or a blank stare.

"You look beautiful, Ellyana. So very beautiful." She can see the emotion welling in his eyes and she forces her own back.

"Please, let's not get all sappy now."

He laughs, latching her cloak around her shoulders. "You always had your mother's mouth. And her eyes. But you've always been more stag than lion. I wish I could have been a better father to you. But I'm passing you off to better hands now. The Stark boy will take care of you. I can tell already he's making you happy." He sniffles. "Come on. They're probably waiting on us."

It had gotten dark fast, or at least it had felt like it. The entire castle had gathered at the Godswood to witness their marriage. Ella takes a deep breath as they enter the Godswood, steadying her nerves as her father walks her down the pathway to where Lord Stark is waiting for them with Jon. The path is lit by lanterns, giving the Godswood a soft glow. Her father stops at the base of the heart tree, Ella lifting her eyes to meet Jon's. He's staring at her in awe, his eyes wide.

"Who comes before the Old Gods this night?" Eddard Stark asks, beginning the ceremony.

"Ellyana of the House Baratheon comes here to be wed. A woman grown and flowered, trueborn and noble. She comes to beg the blessings of the gods. Who comes to claim her?" Her father asks.

Jon steps forward next to his father. "Jon of the House Stark. Who gives her?"

"Robert of the House Baratheon, the First of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm."

Eddard turns to Ella. "Ellyana, will you take this man?"

Ella nods. "I take this man."

Her father moves from her side, going to stand next to her mother, Jon taking their place. They join hands before they kneel in silent prayer to the Old Gods. As they kneel, a breeze moves through the Godswood, breaking the otherwise silent area. The breeze blows the branches of the heart tree, two red leaves falling from a branch, circling a few times before landing before the kneeling couple. Jon squeezes her hand gently, helping her stand. He removes her maiden's cloak from around her shoulders, passing it back to her father before placing his own around her. It's white with the grey direwolf on the back and fur-lined, warming her instantly. Jon turns her to face him, cupping her cheek before kissing her softly again. It's a gentle kiss, not like the one they had shared there just a few days before.

The crowd erupts into applause as they kiss, Ella unable to help the smile that forms on her lips. Jon scoops her up into his arms, carrying her back up the aisle her father had brought her down. The rest of the crowd follows them, making their way to the Great Hall for the feast.

* * *

Ella has hardly touched her food, which is very unlike her. She had told herself she would be courageous going into her wedding night, but her stomach is a knot of nerves and fear. Her mother had warned her it would hurt. _Don't expect him to be kind. To wait for you to be ready. He'll hurt you, Ellyana. And you'll lay there and let him finish and if the gods are merciful, he'll pass out right afterwards. _She can't believe Jon would do something like that to her, but she also is letting her fear rule her brain tonight.

Her father is already drunk again, merrymaking in the hall's middle with another serving girl. She hates the sight, but she can't do anything about it. She doesn't want to start that now. Her Uncle Tyrion is also very drunk, having loudly congratulated them on their marriage and Jon for landing himself a princess. They had gone through a line of people offering their congratulations already, and thankfully the crowd had been distracted by the arrival of food and wine. Ella normally avoided wine but tonight she was having plenty, hoping to gain some liquid courage.

She had been nervous about the ceremony, but it had gone by smoothly. She had worried about her father forgetting her name or calling her the wrong thing but he had surprised her. She feels at ease about the idea of marriage now, perhaps they had the blessings of the Old Gods and they would indeed be happy. Or perhaps it's the wine talking, dampening her nerves.

The wine doesn't help her though when it's time for the bedding ceremony. It's an embarrassing tradition, but tradition nonetheless. As soon as they shout the words, Ella is out of her seat and hoisted into the air by various men. It happens so fast she can't see who all is there, but she recognizes the voice of Theon Greyjoy. She's carried out of the Great Hall and to the Keep, up to Jon's room which she would now share with him. Though embarrassing, she's relieved to be stripped of her dress, the tight garment lost somewhere on the stairs.

She beats Jon to his room, left in nothing but her small clothes. She spots a flask of wine set out and she pours herself another glass, working on unpinning her hair. Jon is brought in a few moments later in a crowd of giggling girls. They have stripped him down to his breeches and boots, and he's laughing as he shoo's the girls out of their room, closing and locking the door behind them. He walks over to her, kicking off his boots as he goes.

"Had enough wine yet?" He had watched her down glass after glass at the feast.

"Gaining some liquid courage." She says, taking another sip.

He stops in front of her, taking the glass from her hand and he downs the rest before setting it aside. He cups her chin, lifting her eyes to his. "I won't hurt you. I promise."

She nods, the wine warming her, pushing down her nerves but she still can't help the butterflies that flutter in her stomach. "I-I've never done this before."

He shakes his head. "Neither have I." She tilts her head in silent question. "I was always afraid of having a bastard of my own. I couldn't do that to a woman nor her child."

Ella places a hand on his bare chest. His skin is warm, his heart beating almost as fast as hers. She lets her fingers explore, feeling the smoothness of his skin covering the hard muscle. She had been right about him being stronger than Robb in his build. She feels the strength in his arms as he wraps them around her, his head dipping to bring their lips together. The kiss is soft, tentative, meant to relax her. Despite all her mother's warnings flying through her head, she finds comfort in his hold. It's not forceful or tight, but comforting. Reassuring.

He presses against her harder now, deepening their kiss. Her hands trail up his chest, tangling themselves in his black curls. They're just as soft as she thought they'd be, the curls sliding through her fingers like silk. His hands pull at her small-clothes, finding the tie in the back. He pulls away from her lips as he tugs in the tie. She lowers her arms, letting the slip fall from her body and pool on the floor at her feet. She feels the need to cover herself, suddenly feeling self conscious.

"Don't." He says, his hands running up her arms. "You're beautiful." He pulls her into a kiss again, tasting the wine on her lips.

His hands explore her body, feeling her smooth skin under his hands. He knows a little of what he's doing. He'd spent the last four years listening to Theon brag about his conquests with the whores of Winter Town, and the past three days getting told many tricks to use to pleasure a woman. He's not sure what Ella will like, and he'd rather just explore with her instead of using Theon's well meant advice.

She gasps against his lips as his fingers brush against her breasts, his thumb running over a pert nipple. She clings to him tighter, goosebumps erupting on her skin. She whispers his name against his lips as he repeats the motion, her back arching against him. He feels himself hardening in his pants at the feel of her body pressed against his. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't pictured them together for the past week, her under him, moaning his name. The feel of her around him, clinging to him as he pleasured her. But his fantasies had been nothing compared to the real thing.

Ella's hands run down his chest, pausing at the tie of his pants. "I think it's only fair that we're both naked." He laughs against her lips, helping her push his pants down around his ankles. He sees her falter when she catches sight of him and he takes her hands in his. "I don't think that will fit."

He presses a soft kiss to her lips. "It will. I promise I'll take care of you."

She nods, wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing him again. He kicks off his pants before lifting her into his arms, carrying her to the bed. He deposits her gently on his bed, kneeling over her. Her dark hair is fanned out from her head, her chest rising and falling with her heavy breaths. He follows the curves of her hips, his hands running up her legs to her thighs. She doesn't fight him as he parts her legs but he can see the weariness in her eyes. He takes one of her hands, lacing their fingers together as he settles between her legs. His mouth closes over her slit, a gasp leaving her lips at the sensation. Her hand grips his tighter, her eyes watching him.

"J-Jon…"

He shushes her, kissing her there again, feeling her start to get wet. He tastes her, the tanginess of her juices mixing with the sweetness of her cries. He watches her face, contorted with pleasure, her back arching off the bed as sweet waves of pleasure roll over her from his ministrations. He feels himself getting harder as he watches her, his own hips rutting against the bed for any kind of friction.

He feels her getting wetter, dripping on his chin and he pulls away, a whine leaving her. She's panting, spread out on the bed under him. "Why did you stop?" Her voice is breathy, her lust filled eyes staring up at him.

"Because I want to be inside you the first time you come undone."

Her breath escapes her in a gasp at his words and he leans down, pressing his body against hers. He forgoes her lips, kissing the skin of her neck. He lines himself up, sucking at the skin under her ear as he presses into her. She's tight around him, her body tensing as he presses past her maidenhead.

Her nails dig into his back, pain radiating through her as he presses inside, but there's something else there, quickly edging away the pain. Jon's whispering in her ear, telling her to relax, his hips moving slowly against hers. His body is hard and warm as it presses against her own, his back flexing as he holds himself over her. She's so full, her body gripping him tightly as it tries to adjust to the intrusion. The pain is slowly fading as he moves his hips, rocking into her as much as he can with how tight she is. She pulls his face away from her neck as she relaxes more, staring up into his eyes as he slips deeper inside of her. She holds his gaze, shyly moving her hips with his. His eyes are practically black with lust as she looks into them, but they've lost none of the softness in them. He thrusts faster into her, her legs coming to cage his hips as he kisses her again.

Ella can feel something building inside of her from his movements, the same feeling that had been building when he had been kissing her down there. She moans against his lips, her nails digging into his back as he makes love to her, drawing her close to something she can't quite figure out yet, pushing her close to an edge. Warmth is spreading clear to her toes as the pressure almost becomes too much.

"Jon?" She gasps, impossibly tight around him.

"Let go." He groans in her ear, trying to hold on for her.

She does as Jon says, something inside her snapping as she lets go. Her back arches as the most intense pleasure she's ever felt runs through her, making her body tremble. Jon continues to thrust into her a few more times before he reaches his own end, his hips stilling as he spills inside her. Jon's body goes slack over her, his elbows keeping his weight off of her as he comes down from his high. His hands smooth over Ella's sweat soaked skin, her body still shaking as she comes down from her own high.

Jon pulls out of her with a groan, flipping them over so he's on his back and she's against his chest. They're both silent for a few moments, catching their breath. Ella's tracing a pattern on his chest, his own fingers tracing the skin of her back. It's a comfortable silence between them, the reality of what transpired, their marriage and its consummation hitting them.

Ella shifts slightly so she can look up at him, green meeting brown as their eyes lock. "I'm still glad it was you, Jon."

He smiles at her, kissing her head before she lays it back on his chest, both of them falling into a comfortable silence once more.


	6. Morning After

**I am so sorry guys, I really wanted to get this out for you like three days ago, but I'm in school and my arthritis is acting up again and so I've barely been able to get through classwork the past three days. This is really just a filler chapter for now, kinda short but I wanted to get something out. **

**Blizzarddragon777: Yeah, it's kind of ironic, isn't it?**

**fire1: Thank you!**

**HPuni101: They're going to stay in Winterfell. And seeing Jaime and Jon spar would be interesting!**

**carl9390: He does in the books. But I'm going more off of the show than the books. **

**Serenity10116: Finally!**

**ZabuzasGirl: Thank you! **

**anjaquickert9: :)**

**Jyerfdog: Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying it!**

* * *

Ella wakes up feeling something hard against her backside. She's on her side, Jon holding her from behind, his warm body pressed against her back, face buried in her hair. He shifts a little in his sleep, something hard brushing up against her again. She feels a flush heat up her cheeks as she realizes what it is. She lays there for a moment before she gets an idea, carefully rolling over in his arms. He's fast asleep, his face relaxed and peaceful. She brushes the black curls out of his eyes, her hand trailing down his chest, feeling the hard plains of his muscles.

She hesitantly takes his length in her hand, feeling the heavy weight of him as she grips him, careful not to squeeze too tightly. He groans a little, shifting, but he keeps his eyes closed. She starts to move her hand along his length, keeping a slow pace. His breathing picks up, his hand covering hers, stopping her movements.

"What are you doing?" His voice is thick with sleep, his eyes hooded as he stares down at her.

"It looked painful. Let me help you."

He adjusts her grip before moving his hand, letting her take over again. She moves her hand slowly, watching his face. His eyes are closed again, breathing heavily as she works him up, her pace quickening. He groans, his hand tangling in her hair as his hips move in time with her hand, the very idea of what's happening pushing him close to the edge. His little demure wife, his princess, working him up like this. He grows harder in her hand, swelling as he gets close to the edge. His hips jerk, a moan leaving his lips as he feels himself falling, the very air leaving his lungs as he twitches in her hand, releasing all over her hand and his chest.

He pants as he comes down from his high, going lax in his position. She releases him and he takes a breath, relaxing for a moment before getting up to grab his tunic, using it to clean them up. He climbs back in the bed after, pulling Ella against his chest.

"I could get used to waking up like that." He smirks, his hand running along her back.

She smiles, laying her head on his chest. "I'll help you as much as I can. You made me feel good, and I want to make you feel good too."

He kisses the top of her head. "My sweet little wife."

They fall into silence, the castle still quiet in the early morning. The air is still warm in the room, keeping them from the chilly air outside. They lay in comfortable silence, Ella almost asleep until her stomach rumbles painfully. She hadn't eaten enough at the wedding feast and now she's paying for her decision to let her fear worry her. Jon says nothing about the sound, still holding her to his chest. She relaxes further against him, wanting to enjoy the time they have to themselves, but her stomach rumbles again, Jon shifting beneath her.

"If your stomach growls any louder, you'll wake the whole castle." There's no hint of malice in his voice, not like her mother's would have held.

"Sorry." She feels her cheeks flush.

"You don't have to apologize for being hungry."

"I wish my mother shared the same view." She murmurs. She hadn't intended for him to hear it, but he had caught it anyway.

"She'd rather you go hungry?"

She rolls off his chest, laying on her back next to him. "She'd let me starve if that's what it took."

He's silent for a moment. "That's why she let you learn to fight."

She nods. "I used to take comfort in food. But for proper little princesses there's not much of an opportunity for exercise. So she let my Uncle Jaime train me to combat my excessive eating. 'Princesses aren't fat, Ellyana,' she told me once. I think she was afraid I'd turn out looking like my father."

Jon rolls onto his side again, looking down at her as he lets his free hand roam her body. "You'll want weight on you up here. It'll keep you alive when winter comes. Besides, if I wanted to hold something thin and sharp at night, I'd sleep with my sword." Ella smiles up at him, cupping his face. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "I'll find a maid, get her to bring food up for us." He kisses her one more time before leaving the bed, pulling on his breeches before stepping out of the room.

Ella lays still for a moment before getting up as well. She's more sore than she had thought, limping over to the dresser to pull on a clean gown. No doubt her father will want proof of their consummation and she's surprised the maids haven't knocked down the door yet to take the sheet. She runs a brush through her hair, getting the tangles out from the night before. Jon comes back in with Ghost behind him, the Direwolf coming up to her and licking her hand. He's growing fast, larger than he had been when she'd first met him already.

She takes a seat at the small table in their room, scratching ghost's ears as Jon pulls on a clean tunic. He opens the door when there's a knock, a gaggle of maids coming in to change the sheets and deliver their breakfast. They're all talking and giggling, one of them stoking the fire back to life before they leave, half ushered back out by Jon.

She smiles at him after he closes the door. "You're very popular among the women of Winterfell."

She swears she sees a blush on his cheeks at her words. "Robb says it's my eyes. And my hair."

"He wouldn't be wrong."

He gives her a look as he sits across from her. "Your eyes were the first thing I noticed about you. And there are women in King's Landing that would kill to have hair like yours."

He laughs, grabbing a bit of food to put on his plate. "Nice to know you can find something you like about me."

She reaches across the table, putting her hand on his. "You're a very likable person, Jon. You were kind to me when I was at my most vulnerable. My mother had warned me about my wedding night since I first flowered. How it would hurt, how I would just lay there and let my husband finish and then pray he passed out afterwards. But you, you took care of me. You made me feel things I did not even know I was capable of feeling. I didn't know a man could do the things you did to me last night. So don't be self-deprecating. Your family loves you. And I care a lot about you too."

* * *

The Queen had summoned Ella to her not long after they broke their fast. Jon takes the opportunity to stretch his legs, going to find Robb and Theon in the tiltyard. They're both sparring, Theon taking a knock to the shoulder as he spies Jon.

"Tell me, Stark, have you ever seen him look that happy before?"

Robb turns, smiling at his half brother as he approaches. "Can't say I have. The princess must be quite the miracle worker."

"Amazing what can happen when you finally fall between a woman's legs."

Jon glares at them, grabbing his own sparring sword. "Oh, shut up."

"It must have been a good night. He even seems less tense." Theon says.

"Less brooding and definitely more relaxed." Robb says. "Surprised we're even being graced with his presence this morning. Figured he'd stay in bed all day making sweet love to his new little wife."

Jon swings at Theon, who luckily ducks out of the way before he can get a sword to the side of his head. They spar for a better part of the morning, Jon getting several hits in as payback for Theon's incessant comments about his activities the previous night.

* * *

"Must you go hunting with him?" Ella asks as her and Jon lay in bed in the early morning light. They'd only been married a few days now, and her father was eager to get out of Winterfell and do something, and what better than to do his favorite hobby: hunting.

"Your father requested I go with him personally." He says, running his hands up her sides.

She pouts, leaning down so she's hovering over him, her hair creating a curtain around them. "But what if I request you stay here with me, personally?"

"As much as I would prefer that, your father is still the King." He grips her hips, flipping them so he's hovering over her. "Besides. You'll be all mine when I return." He presses a kiss to her lips before climbing out of bed, pulling on his clothes.

She watches him dress, tucking herself back under the furs on his bed. He approaches her again once he's dressed, leaning down and kissing her again. "I'll be back soon." He looks over to where Ghost is laying by the fire. "Ghost." The Direwolf gets up, jumping on the end of the bed, laying himself by Ella's feet. "Take care of her for me, alright?" He runs his hand over Ghost's head, kissing Ella once more before taking his leave.

Ella stays in bed for a few more moments after Jon leaves, relishing in the warmth and quiet of their room. Ghost lays his head on her legs, watching her. She smiles, scratching behind his ears. "You take your job very seriously, don't you?" He blinks at her, making her smile. "Why don't we go find something to eat?"


	7. The Truth

**Okay, so I've been fighting with this chapter for almost a week now and I've finally gotten it done. It's still kind of a filler chapter, but there is important things that happen in it towards the end. **

**ZabuzasGirl: Thank you so much!**

**Serenity10116: Thank you!**

**fire1: Yeah, I've been fighting my arthritis and classes so I've been struggling to get the time and energy to sit and write. Hopefully it'll get better soon and I can get more written!**

**HPuni101: Thank you!**

**Blizzarddragon777: That's very true!**

**Natassia: Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying it!**

**Rose: Thank you! Hopefully I won't be so long with the updates here soon!**

**10868letsgo: It's definitely different! It'll be interesting to see how things pan out now that Jon's staying in Winterfell!**

**Winter kiss: Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying it!**

**Miku tQm: Don't worry! I'm not going anywhere! It may be slow between updates for now, but I promise I have no intentions of abandoning this story!**

* * *

The entire castle is alight with rumors of what had happened. Bran had an affinity for climbing, or so Ella had been told, and he had never fallen once. But according to the guard that found him, he had fallen while climbing the broken tower. They had taken him straight to his room, the Maester and his mother with him still while a rider was sent to locate the hunting party and let them know what had happened.

Ella was in hers and Jon's room with Ghost, sitting by the fire. She had tried to occupy her mind by distracting herself but nothing had worked. Her mind was drawn back to Bran's fall. How something like that could happen, and to such a sweet boy. She had only glimpsed him as the guard rushed him into the Keep, the Maester and Lady Catelyn following. He seemed so small, so young. She had once thought bad things only happened to those who deserved it, those who brought it upon themselves. But she had quickly learned it's not always the case. Sometimes bad things happen to those who least deserve it.

Ghost lifts his head as the door opens, Jon coming inside. She can see the grief on his face, the worry for his younger brother clearly written in his features. She stands, moving closer to him, expecting the worst. The last news they had received was during their lunch when the Maester was still unsure of Bran's fate.

"Maester Luwin says he may live." The words are a weight taken off of her shoulders, but there's still a worried edge in his voice. "It's still too soon to be certain, but there's a chance." Ella makes her way to her husband, reaching for him. He pulls her body close to his, burying his face in her neck. Ella wraps her arms around him, holding him. "Maester Luwin said he'll never walk again, if he wakes."

"He may live. That is the important part."

Jon backs her until her legs hit the bed, his breath fanning against her neck. His hands move lower, lifting her up before climbing on the bed with her. He lays her back, his arms still wrapped around her as he lays his head on her chest. She runs her fingers through his black curls, gently massaging his scalp. His breathing is even, steady as she holds him, his grip around her tight, anchoring himself to something stable as his thoughts drift worriedly to his younger brother.

* * *

The King had delayed his departure by a day to allow Lord Stark time with his family, and with Bran. It's a grey morning, the sun hidden by thick clouds overhead, threatening rain. Jon is still asleep when Ella wakes, his head still on her chest. Their legs are tangled together under the fur she'd pulled over them. He'd loosened his hold on her, his arm loosely thrown over her stomach now. Neither of them had dressed down for the night, still in the clothes they'd been wearing the previous day.

Ella tangles her fingers in Jon's hair again, the silky soft tresses sliding through her fingers easily. She hopes their children will have hair like Jon's. They'll be dark-haired for certain, but she can't help but hope they inherit their father's beautiful hair. In fact, she hopes their children take after their father in every way. It's a funny idea to her still, thinking about children. Their children. Two months ago she would not have thought she would be married, on her way to being a mother, possibly at this very moment. Her own mother had warned her the Starks were known for being fertile. Lord Stark had six children, one of which had come from a single slip of honor during a war. There was a great chance she could be with child now and not know it yet. Her and Jon had been diligent in their coupling. They had been married six days now, and four of those days had concluded with love-making. In nine months she could bring Jon's child into the world. She would be a mother soon.

"You're thinking too loudly." Jon's voice rumbles against her chest as he wakes. He turns slowly, lifting himself so he's facing her. "What's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

She grins at him. "Just thinking about the future. Our children."

He stares down at her for a moment. "Are you…"

She shrugs. "I could be. I've heard you Starks are very fertile."

He laughs, leaning down and kissing her. His body moves over hers, her legs parting for him. He pulls away from his lips as his hands travel up her thighs, pulling her skirts up. "I've heard the same. Regardless, I say we should keep trying, just in case."

She smirks, wrapping her legs around him before flipping him onto his back. He stares up at her for a moment, his hands coming to rest on her hips. "Where did you learn to do that?"

She smiles, working on getting him out of his clothes. "You've met the beast masquerading as my little brother. Well, when we were growing up, he wanted what everyone else had, and so he would try to take things from me. I quickly learned of ways to fight him off. Stun him long enough I could get up and run. It's just a matter of using your opponent's body against them." She lets her hands run up the exposed skin of his chest, her lips following.

"I'd like to see what else you've learned." He groans, her lips tracing up his neck.

Her lips brush his ear as she speaks, drawing shivers down his spine while his fingers hastily undo the laces on the back of her dress. "Perhaps one day I'll show you." She nips at his ear, his breath leaving him in a groan at the sensation.

She pulls away once he has the laces undone, pulling the layers of her dress over her head and dropping them on the floor. He sits up, pulling his own shirt off, her hands dropping to unlace his pants. His hand slips between her thighs, feeling her already wet for him. He strokes her slit a few times, feeling her shiver from his ministrations. He's already hard, springing out of his pants when she finishes unlacing them. He helps her remove them before she settles in his lap once more. She presses close to him, her breasts brushing against his chest as he wraps his arms around her. He can feel her, the tip of his head brushing against her as he breathes.

He kisses her again, his hands guiding her as she settles onto him. She's hot and tight, her walls gripping at him already. He groans against her lips, devouring her mouth as she begins to move her hips, rocking slowly on him. Her movements are small, timid as she moves over him. She pulls away from his lips, her eyes finding his as she broadens her movements, taking more of him with every circle of her hips. She stares into the deep brown of his eyes, her chest heaving with her breath at the sensation of them joined together. His hands are strong, gripping her hips as she moves. He finds he's unable to break her gaze, drawn in by the soft emerald orbs framed by thick, dark lashes.

He keeps his gaze locked with hers as he reaches back behind himself for leverage, his hips thrusting up into her. She gasps at the new movement, clinging to him as he begins to move with her. She's trembling in his hold, her wetness dripping onto his thighs. Her back is arched, pressing her chest to his as he continues to thrust into her, drawing her close to the edge. He can feel his own end approaching, the tightness of her slick passage drawing it out of him.

Their gaze breaks when she comes undone, his name leaving her lips in a whisper as her head falls back. She's tight like a vice around him, his own hips stuttering as he's drawn over the edge by her, spilling his hot seed inside her. She stills on his lap, leaning her head against his shoulder as she calms her shaking, her breaths hot against his sweat slicked skin. He stills under her, dropping back so he's sitting on the bed, his arms wrapping around her.

They stay like that for a while, both of them calming from their highs. Ella's face is pressed against his neck, her warm breath fanning across his skin. His body is warm, almost unnaturally so. She had noticed that on their wedding night. His body was always warm, always heated by some inner fire that kept him from getting cold. She was still adjusting to the Northern air, thankful for the natural warmth inside the walls of Winterfell and the natural warmth of her husband.

Jon lays back on the bed, pulling her with him so she's nestled against his side, her leg thrown over his waist. His hand traces the sensitive skin along her thigh, her own fingers tracing patterns on his chest. It's silent between them for a few moments, comfortable silence they often found themselves in. A silence that speaks for itself without needing any clarification.

That silence is broken by the sound of feet running down the stairs, followed by another, and Sansa yelling about how Arya ruins everything. Jon and Ella burst into laughter, finally stirring from their comfortable silence. Jon steals a kiss from Ella before sliding out from under her, pulling clothes out of his wardrobe for the day. Ella watches him, a smirk tugging at her lips as she watches the muscles of his back move and flex as he dresses.

* * *

Jon had gone to see Bran, leaving Ella alone with Ghost. The Direwolf had taken to following her when he wasn't permitted to follow his master. Ella wouldn't complain though. Having the young Direwolf near her made her feel safe. She knew no one in Winterfell would hurt her, but it was still reassuring to have him close.

Ghost follows her as she makes her way to the Godswood to pray for Bran. It's the first time she's gone since her wedding, the same path she had walked down to be joined with Jon seems much shorter now. She had been so nervous to be a married woman, but now she can't see why she had been so nervous. Perhaps the fear her mother had instilled in her had driven her to believe that all men were like her father. But Jon wasn't. Jon was good to her. Despite being forced into this marriage, she wouldn't wind up like her mother. Her life would be better. Happier.

She kneels in front of the heart tree, staring up at the face carved in the bark. "I-I'm not sure how to do this." She begins, keeping her eyes on the tree. "I know I'm not a Northerner. I was born under the Seven, but...you're the ones with the power here. I know I don't have the right to be asking this, but, please...spare Bran's life. He-He's just a boy. He doesn't deserve to die…" Ella bites her lip, trailing off as she looks at the tree. A slight breeze has picked up, rustling the leaves over her head. A faint buzzing sound has begun too, the same she'd heard over a week ago when she'd first come to the Godswood.

The sound gets louder; the breeze picking up as well. Ella wants to look away, she feels as though she should leave, but she can't bring herself to move. The buzzing continues to get louder until it's almost painful, Ella covering her ears to try to keep it out but it's no good. She closes her eyes, trying to block the sound that's suffocating her, pressing down upon her like a heavy weight. She feels something warm tricking from her nose, drawing her eyes open. Red droplets splatter onto the leaves and dirt in front of her.

The buzzing noise ceases, the silence ringing in her ears as she looks up to the heart tree, red tears falling from the carved eyes.

* * *

Jon meets his father halfway to Bran's room. He looks weary, tired from staying with Bran all night. Eddard regards Jon with a meaningful look. He resembled his mother more and more every day, a fate Ned was glad for.

"How is Bran?" Jon asks him, breaking him from his thoughts.

"Nothing's changed. Maester Luwin still has hope he will live." Jon nods, silence passing between them for a moment. "Come ride with me, Jon. I have something I need to tell you."

Ned doesn't wait to see if Jon follows, making his way down to the stables. Jon follows him dutifully, saddling his horse beside his father. They ride out of Winterfell, heading out into the hills. It's silent between them, Jon afraid to break the silence, Ned trying to figure out how to tell Jon what he needs to hear. They finally stop on the tallest hill North of Winterfell. They can see the castle in the distance, the low clouds making it appear covered in a haze. It's silent where they stand, Jon holding his breath to hear what his father has to say to him.

"We're leaving tomorrow for King's Landing. You and Ellyana will stay here with Robb and Bran and Rickon. You will help Robb run Winterfell and someday soon you will raise children of your own." Ned pauses for a moment, Jon's eyes on him. "It's time I told you the truth about your mother. I had to bring you out here, away from any ears that may overhear because what I am about to tell you cannot be repeated to anyone, not even to your wife." Jon nods in understanding, a terrible twisting feeling forming in his gut. Ned is quiet for a moment, thinking about how he will tell Jon the truth. "For seventeen years you've bared the shame of being called a bastard. A child born from a moment of weakness, of dishonor." Ned doesn't miss Jon's flinch at his words. "But it's not true, Jon. You're not my son."

Jon's eyes are wide as he stares at the man he had called his father for the past seventeen years. "I don't understand."

"You know of my sister, Lyanna, of her kidnapping by Rhaegar." Jon nods. "It was almost a year before we found her, the end of Robert's Rebellion. I, along with six men went South to the Tower of Joy in Dorne. We fought our way to the tower, killing the Targaryen guards that waited outside, and four of my men died with them. I found my sister in the tower dying. She had just given birth."

Ned turns to look at Jon, a frown marring his features as he takes in the words he had just been told. It's silent between them for a few moments, Jon running over the words in his head. "You're my Uncle."

Ned nods. "Yes. Your mother made me promise to keep you safe. She knew if Robert ever found out the truth about you-"

"He would kill me." Jon finishes.

"Not even the woman he loved would have saved you from Robert's wrath. It still wouldn't. Robert would kill you just as quickly now as he would have back then."

"That's why you told everyone I was your son. To keep me safe."

Ned nods. "It was safer for you not to know. Things are changing, Jon. There's something amiss in the Capital, but I had to tell you the truth before I left."

"Does anyone else know?"

Ned shakes his head. "Just you, me and Catelyn."

Jon nods slowly. "That's why she was so kind to me. She came to me the day of the wedding. It makes sense now."

Ned nods. "I had to tell her too. She's seen you as a ghost for a long time. Robert's choice to marry you to Ellyana is confounding unless he knows more than he lets on."

They fall into silence again, Jon running through the conversation in his head over and over. He wasn't Jon Snow or even Jon Stark at all. He was a Targaryen. He had a claim to the throne beyond his wife now, but trying to make that claim would get him killed. He knows the truth now, the truth that had been hidden from him for seventeen years to keep him safe. His eyes catch something on the horizon, a form moving closer to them.

"There's a rider." He says, both him and Ned spurring their horses forward to meet the rider.

It's Jory Cassel, the Captain of the Guard. He nods to the two men once they reach each other, greeting them. "Lord Stark, Lord Jon. You must come quickly. It's Lady Ellyana. She's fallen unconscious."


	8. The King's Departure

**Okay, so another filler really. The plot is shifting now and things are gonna start changing, especially as far as canon is concerned. **

**HPuni101: Thank you! As far as what's going to happen when Robb calls the banners...that's been an area of uncertainty. I kind of have two different ways it could go and I'm not quite sure which I'm going to choose yet. I guess it really depends on how I decide things are going to flow between now and when that happens. **

**fire1: Thank you so much! I am doing a little better. I got injections done a couple days ago and it has significantly improved things. Part of my problem is I now have bone spurs that are pressing on a nerve in my neck. I just can't sit for long periods of time anymore or keep my head in one position (which is my default position and why I have so many problems) anymore. Makes sitting down to write really fun. **

**Serenity10116: You'll find out soon! I promise!**

**FanfavBBC: Thank you! Glad you're enjoying it!**

**Winter kiss: Thank you! I was always mad that Ned never told Jon the truth so I had to do it myself! **

**Guest: You know I've been thinking about that. Obviously they'll have children, and I was playing around with the idea of coming out of left field and making their child look like a true Targaryen with the hair and the eyes, but that might be pushing it a bit. You'll just have to wait and find out what happens! And as far as Jon's eyes, I've been modeling him more after Kit Harington just cause that man is beautiful and I've literally had a crush on him since before I started watching GOT. As far as Jon having a dragon..I'd never actually thought about it. It's certainly an interesting idea that I'll have to play around with a bit. As far as Robb marrying, well...you'll just have to wait and find out!**

**Padfootette: Thank you! Glad you're enjoying it! **

* * *

Jon can hear the blood rushing in his ears, his stomach a twisted mess as he races up the stairs to his room. First Bran, and now Ella. He's in such a worry he pays no mind to the Queen who is sitting on the edge of their bed as he enters the room. Maester Luwin is there too, dabbing a wet cloth across Ella's forehead. Robb is standing by the fireplace, Ghost at his feet.

"What happened?" Jon asks, not bothering to catch his breath after his race up the stairs.

"No one knows." Robb answers. "I was in the training yard with Prince Joffrey and Prince Tommen when Ghost found me. Wouldn't leave me alone until I followed him. He led me right to her. She was in the Godswood, in front of the heart tree. She wasn't moving, didn't even look like she was breathing from afar. I brought her straight back here."

Maester Luwin turns to Jon. "Has she been complaining of feeling ill at all? Or has she been sick recently?"

Jon shakes his head. "Not at all. She was perfectly fine this morning."

Maester Luwin nods, placing the wet cloth on her forehead. "She appears physically healthy. It is hard to tell while she is unconscious if there is a deeper cause for it." He looks up at the Queen. "Does she have a history of fainting spells, your grace?"

Cersei shakes her head. "No. This has never happened before."

Maester Luwin nods. "The best we can do now is wait. I do not think we will have to wait long."

He bows to the Queen, nodding at Robb and Jon before taking his leave. Robb takes his leave as well, going to alert his father of the events. Jon moves over to the bed, sitting on the other side of Ella. It's silent in the room for a moment, Jon not quite knowing what to say.

"I knew Robert would marry her off as soon as he could." Cersei says, breaking the silence. "I figured it would be to Loras Tyrell or even to the Martells. But sending her North...I should have known Robert would want to marry her to one of Eddard Stark's sons. Trade Ella for Sansa." Jon glances up at her. "I could have lost her in the beginning. Robert had wanted it to be her. I should have spent the last sixteen years being more of a mother to her. I didn't think Robert would send her away so quickly, much less North to marry a bastard. Demoted from a princess to a lady for whatever reason Robert got into his head." Cersei strokes her cheek. "My sweet Ella. Too much like her father for her own good. I tried to fix it, tried to make her more like me but she refused to listen. Maybe that's why she's so happy here despite everything. Maybe that's why she thinks she loves you. But men aren't capable of love. They claim to be, but even the most honorable have their downfalls." Cersei stares at him and he stares back. He wants to say something, say anything, but he holds his tongue. She's quiet for a moment before standing. "Things are changing. Perhaps leaving her here will be better in the end."

Jon is reeling as the queen takes her leave. He wants to hit something, anything. Instead, he focuses his gaze on his wife. She's peaceful, her breaths steady. He sits there, watching the rise and fall of her chest, counting each breath. How the queen could sit there and disrespect both him and his wife so blatantly was astounding to him. Perhaps that's the way things were in the South. If that was the case, he is glad to be staying in Winterfell.

* * *

Jon's not sure how long he sits there. The sky has darkened, and he can hear his cousins going to their rooms to clean up for dinner. It would be the last dinner with all of them together. Tomorrow the king would leave, along with his uncle, Sansa and Arya. He would stay here with Robb, who would become the Lord of Winterfell. Lady Stark would stay to watch over Bran. She hadn't left his side at all since they brought him in. Jon can understand why now as he hadn't left Ella's side since he'd arrived in her room.

Ella starts to move, a frown marring her peaceful features as her fingers twitch in his hand. Jon runs a hand over her head, her skin cool. He hadn't bothered replacing the cloth as her skin had remained cool without it. Her eyes fly open and she jerks into a sitting position, breathing heavily. Jon steadies her, holding her arms.

"Hey, it's okay. You're alright."

She looks to him, a panicked look in her eyes. She stares at him for a moment, looking him over before throwing her arms around him. "Don't leave me Jon. Don't leave me. Please."

Jon wraps his arms around her, holding her. "I'm not going to leave you, Ella."

"Don't go to the Wall, Jon. Please."

He frowns, pulling away from her a little. "What on Earth are you talking about? Why would I go to the Wall?"

She sniffles, tears in her eyes as she stares at him. "I watched you die, Jon. I watched you die at the Wall."

Jon frowns, cupping her cheeks. "It was just a dream. I'm not going to the Wall, Ella. I'm not going to die, and I'm not going to leave you. I promise." He wipes a tear as it falls down her cheek before pulling her into his arms. "It's alright. Robb found you unconscious in the Godswood. Do you remember what happened?"

She stills for a moment. "I...I remember going to the Godswood...and I remember being there, but...I don't remember what happened."

Jon nods. "Do you feel alright?"

She nods. "I feel fine. I just...had strange dreams."

Jon nods. "I need to go find Maester Luwin. Let him know you're awake."

* * *

Ella doesn't sleep well that night. Maester Luwin had confirmed that there was nothing wrong with her, and that it was a simple fainting spell. She promised to alert him if she felt ill, but she felt perfectly fine. Her mind refused to rest though, distracted throughout dinner and unable to sleep. Jon is fast asleep next to her, his arm slung over her waist. His breaths are even and slow, face soft and relaxed. She brushes a black curl from his forehead, watching him. Her dreams while she was unconscious had felt so real. Out of everything she had dreamed, watching Jon die had been the worst. She had watched the very life leave his eyes, leaving her alone. She had been so scared it was real; she had hardly believed he was sitting there by her when she woke up.

She finally drifts off sometime in the early morning, only managing a few hours before she's woken by Jon leaving the bed. She feels more tired now than she had thought she would, but she knows she has to be up to bid her family farewell. She's not sure when she'll see them again, and she knows it could be a long time before they venture back North, or she goes South.

"You look tired." Jon says as he sits on the edge of the bed to pull on his boots.

She nods. "I didn't sleep well last night."

"Your family is leaving today. Otherwise I'd say you could stay in bed and rest."

She sighs. "I know. Part of me is glad they're leaving. But another part of me knows it could be a long time before I see them again."

Jon nods. "I understand." He kisses her hand. "Come on. I'll walk you to breakfast."

* * *

The King wass determined to leave before midday. Their entire procession had gathered, stretching out of the gates of Winterfell as they prepared to leave. Ella had already bid farewell to her siblings, ignoring Joffrey's comment about her having an entire litter of pups the next time they see each other. She had contemplated avoiding her mother, but Cersei had all but tracked her down.

"Take care of yourself, sweet daughter." Cersei tells her, tucking a loose hair behind her ear. "Write to me often. I want to know as soon as you find out you are with child."

Ella nods. "I promise I'll send a Raven."

Cersei nods, looking like she wants to say something but she doesn't, instead she presses a kiss to Ella's head before climbing into the wheelhouse. Ella watches her go until she's disappeared inside, a bitter taste left in her mouth. She makes her way away from the gathered procession, nearly being knocked into the mud by the youngest Stark girl.

"I wish I didn't have to leave." Arya says as she hugs Ella tight. "I'd rather stay here."

Ella smiles, hugging the girl back. "I know. I'd rather have you here too. But you must do as your father says."

Arya look up at her. "I wish we could have spent more time together."

Ella nods. "Me too. But it will just give you an excuse to visit often."

Arya smiles, Ella bending down to look her in the eyes. "Take care of yourself down there, alright? The South is more dangerous than the North. Keep an eye on your sister as well."

Arya nods. "I will." Ella pulls her into a hug one more time before she's whisked away by her Septa.

Ella watches the procession as it starts to move, a presence joining her where she stands. She doesn't turn, watching the long train of horses and men as it leaves Winterfell.

"Does it feel strange to watch them go?"

Ella grimaces. "Yes. I've spent my whole life with them and now in a matter of a few weeks that's all changed. But a part of me is glad." She turns to look up at Robb. "They are my family, and I am entitled to the duty of caring for them in that regard. But that does not mean I necessarily have to like them."

Robb laughs. "I hope you do grow to like it here. I'm glad you've stayed. I've trained my whole life to take over as Lord of Winterfell and now that the time has come...I feel so unprepared."

Ella smiles at him, squeezing his arm. "Don't worry. You have Jon still. And you have me. We're family now. I'll help you any way I can."


	9. Trust

**So sorry for the long delay in getting this chapter out! I got busy with school but I promise I'm back again!**

**Blizzarddragon777: You'll just have to wait and find out! **

**fire1: As far as what Ella saw...you'll have to wait and see! And as far as what will happen with Ella and Jon...you'll have to wait and see!**

**HPuni101: Thank you!**

**Padfootette: Thank you! Glad you're enjoying it!**

**Serenity10116: Unfortunately I think this chapter is shorter. We're getting to good stuff I promise!**

**Sea: Don't worry, I have no plans to abandon the story! **

**belladu57: Thank you so much! **

* * *

It had only been a few days since the King had left Winterfell and already everything was different. Winterfell is quiet and solemn without the ruckus that the King had brought with him. Ella finds it unnerving, so different from the ceaselessly noisy capitol. It had seemed to get colder too as the castle had emptied. Ella had never seen a true winter. She had been born at the end of the last true winter and she had did not remember the most recent false winter nine years before. The next winter would be hard, everyone seemed to say. Even in the south some were worried about the looming possibility of the seasons changing at any moment. Westeros had never seen such a long summer in its recorded history and perhaps an even longer winter would be coming.

Despite this, Ella finds she's comfortable in Winterfell. Robb is now the Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North in the absence of his father. Lady Stark had remained behind to look after Bran and kept herself shut up in his room watching over him. Robb was already feeling the strain of his mother's absence. He had trained his entire life for this, but now that the duty has been thrust upon him, he's not sure he can handle it. He's never been so grateful to have Jon with him, as it goes. Their father had trained Jon as well, despite Catelyn's disapproval. Back then the chances of Jon becoming Lord of Winterfell were slim, but Ned had taught him anyway. Perhaps now that had been a good thing.

Ella helps Robb any way she can, just as Jon does. She had been the one seeing over the affairs of the house now that the steward was gone and Lady Stark was indisposed. Ella had also taken to caring for Rickon. He is young still and does not understand why his father left and his mother isn't there. He had attached himself to Robb, but Robb was busy with the aftermath of her father's visit.

Ella had just finished putting Rickon to bed for the night, staying with him until he was asleep like she promised she would. Robb is making his way down the hall as she leaves Rickon's room, closing the door quietly behind her.

"Is he asleep?" Robb stops in front of her, speaking quietly.

"Fast asleep."

Robb sighs, relieved, pulling her in for a hug. "I don't know how to thank you for everything you've done."

Ella smiles, hugging Robb back. "You need not thank me." She pulls away from Robb, smiling up at him. "I want to help you. You've got enough on your plate as it is. Anything I can do to lessen the load, I will."

Robb smiles at her. "I am glad you are here. I fear I would be lost without you and Jon with me."

Ella shakes her head. "I'm sure you would do just fine. But Jon and I aren't going anywhere. We'll stand by your side until you send us away."

Robb smiles. "Thank you. I'm going to see Bran and my mother. Maybe convince her to leave his side for a moment."

Ella nods. "Good luck."

Robb smiles again, nodding his thanks before they go their separate ways, Ella going back to her room for the night. She's tired. The week she'd had with Jon after their wedding had been a breeze. But now that her family had gone, and she was busy helping take care of Winterfell, things had changed. She hardly saw Jon outside of their nights spent together and their meals. She feels as if a wedge has been pushed between them. Their brief time of honeymoon is over, and now they're pulled apart by duty. Maybe her mother had been right after all. Happiness is hard to find in a marriage of duty.

She's getting ready for bed when Jon arrives in their room. Ghost lays himself in front of the fire in his usual spot, watching the two inhabitants of the room. Jon moves beside Ella as she pulls a brush through her hair. "You look tired."

Ella looks up at him. "I am. I haven't been sleeping well." It's true. Since her fainting spell she hadn't been able to sleep. She's plagued by nightmares, horrible visions of death and destruction and ruin.

"You toss and turn all night. I can get some milk of the poppy from Maester Luwin-"

"No." Ella shakes her head, putting her brush down. "No, I'll be alright. I think the stress is starting to get to me is all."

Jon kneels before her, cupping her face. "You don't have to take on everything that you are. If it is too much Robb will understand."

Ella sighs. "He needs our help. It will get easier. Once Bran wakes-"

She's cut off as Ghost begins to howl. She can hear the dogs outside howling, Ghost sending his answer. She'd never heard Ghost even whine, let alone howl suddenly. Jon turns to Ghost, frowning. "Ghost, enough." Ghost doesn't pay him any mind, his head in the air as he howls.

Ella gets up, going to the window to close it when something catches her eye. "Jon, fire!"

Jon is on his feet at her side instantly, looking out the window. It's the library tower she believes. "Stay here. Ghost, stay." Jon commands as he rushes out the door. Ella turns back to the window, watching the blaze from the safety of the Keep.

She waits until she can no longer see the fire before moving to the bed. She pulls the covers back, sliding into bed. Ghost jumps on the end of the bed, moving until he's nearly on the pillows. He lays his head on his paws, watching her with his bright red eyes. She smiles, running a hand over his head.

"Going to protect me from my nightmares?" Ghost lets out a heavy breath, his gaze never wavering. "Maybe you'll be able to help." Ella tangles a hand in his fur, letting her eyes droop closed. She is so exhausted.

She wakes for a short moment when Jon returns. The fire has died down some, the room dark as he enters. She's not sure how long she's been asleep, or how long he was gone. "Jon?"

He comes over to her, shushing her. "Go back to sleep."

She nods, letting her head fall back to the pillow. Ghost is still beside her, stretched out on his side. She keeps her hand in his fur, drifting back to sleep once again.

* * *

"What I am about to tell you must remain between us." Catelyn says, standing in the Godswood with the few in Winterfell she could trust now. Ser Rodrik Cassel, Maester Luwin, Robb, Jon and Theon are with her. After the attempt on Bran's life the night before she had gone to look at the tower he fell from. What she had found there, along with the assassin the night before had made her suspicious. "I don't think Bran fell from that tower. I think he was thrown."

"The boy was always sure-footed before." Maester Luwin says.

"Someone tried to kill him twice." Catelyn continues. "Why? Why murder an innocent child? Unless he saw something he wasn't meant to see."

"Saw what, my lady?" Theon asks.

"I don't know. But I would stake my life the Lannisters are involved. We already have reason to suspect their loyalty to the crown."

"Did you notice the dagger the killer used?" Ser Rodrik says. "It's too fine a weapon for such a man. The blade is Valyrian steel, the handle dragonbone. Someone gave it to him."

Robb can feel the anger rising in him at this new revelation. "They come into our home and try to murder my brother? If it's war they want-"

"If it comes to that you know I'll stand behind you." Theon says.

"What? Is there going to be a battle in the Godswood?" Maester Luwin interrupts the boys. "Huh? Too easily words of war become acts of war. We don't know the truth yet."

"There may be a way to find out." Jon says, all eyes turning to him.

"You would trust her to tell the truth? She is a Lannister by blood."

Jon gives Theon an icy stare. "Ella cares for Bran. If I tell her what happened she will be honest. I've seen her with her Lannister family. She bares no ill will for them, but there is no loyalty there either."

Catelyn nods. "If you trust her, then perhaps we can save ourselves some grief in finding the truth."


	10. The Dagger

**Alright, so I actually had this written out yesterday but I got so busy I forgot to post it! **

**ZabuzasGirl: Thank you!**

**Padfootette: I'm glad you liked it!**

**DullReign82: But is she really trustworthy? You'll have to read to find out.**

**fire1: They certainly trust her, but is she really trustworthy? And I am doing better!**

**10868letsgo: Your feeling may be correct...**

**Raging Raven: That would be an interesting way to let the story play out. I'm not sure if I'm going to take the story in that direction. I'm still working out some things as far as canon is concerned, so you'll just have to wait and see what happens. **

**Bella-swan11: Don't worry, things are going to become more clear to everyone as the story goes on. Jon can't keep things secret for too long. **

**Guest: It is hypocritical. But, of course, Robb still thinks he can trust Theon. Which of course will play out later on. And as far as the dagger goes...well...you'll see!**

* * *

Ella is playing with Rickon when Jon finds her. He had left early that morning, and she hadn't seen him since. Judging by the look on his face it's nothing good. Ella kisses Rickon's head, leaving him to play under the supervision of a maid before she approaches Jon.

"Ella, I need you to come with me." Jon says, grabbing her hand with no explanation.

"What's going on? Jon, I want to know what's going on."

He stops, stepping close to her face, speaking in a hushed voice. "We have to go somewhere more private to talk about it. Something has happened."

Ella doesn't ask any more questions as Jon leads her away from the Keep towards the Godswood. Jon moves hastily, Ella practically having to run to keep up. Whatever had happened, it was bad enough to cause this kind of urgency.

Jon leads her towards the heart tree, slowing his pace as he passes it by. He leads her to where a small group is gathered. Lady Stark, Maester Luwin, Ser Rodrik, Robb and Theon all have eyes on her as Jon leads her forward.

"Ellyana, we brought you here because Jon has complete trust in you, that you will be honest with us and not share what you are about to hear with anyone." Ella gulps, nodding. "Last night, an attempt was made on Bran's life." Ella feels her breath leave her lungs in a gasp. "He is alright, and the assassin has been taken care of. But this action has led us to believe that Bran saw something he should not have in that tower the day he fell. We also think he may have been thrown from the tower. Whoever was in the tower that day must not have wanted any witnesses to what they were doing and sent a man to kill Bran. The man was carrying this dagger."

Ser Rodrik turns to her then, holding out the dagger. "It's Valyrian steel with a dragonbone handle. Too fine a blade for the man carrying it."

Ella takes the dagger, hiding her hands from shaking. "You think it someone from King's Landing. And you want to know if I recognize it." She looks up at Lady Stark.

Lady Stark nods. "Yes. If we can identify the owner of the blade, then we can bring justice for Bran's attempted murder."

Ella nods, looking back at the dagger. Memories flood through her mind as she holds it. Joffrey had a tourney for his last nameday celebration at King's Landing. She remembers that day, her father had placed a bet on Loras Tyrell when he had gone against her Uncle Jaime. He had won the dagger from Petyr Baelish when Loras had unseated her Uncle. But why would her father want to kill Bran? She can't imagine it had been her father that had been the one to send the assassin. Ella's fingers start to go cold as she holds the dagger, her knuckles aching as she holds it from the cold. She knows it's not just the cool air causing it. "I don't remember ever seeing a dagger like this before. It's not like the ones the Kingsguard carry, and I've never seen anyone openly carrying a blade like this." She hands the dagger back to Ser Rodrik.

Lady Stark nods. "Thank you, Ellyana. I will ride South to Kings Landing then. See if I cannot find answers there."

"What about Bran?" Robb asks.

"I have prayed to the Seven for more than a month. He is in their hands now."

* * *

Ella's hands still feel cold as she makes her way back to the Keep. While she had been honest with Lady Stark, she hadn't told them what she had felt while holding the dagger. Perhaps it had just been the news of what had happened, the gravity of the situation, but as she had held the dagger she had felt sick. It was like it was pulling the very life out of her. Her head is still reeling from the sensation, her stomach churning.

"Ella!" She stops when she hears her name being called. She turns, finding Jon jogging towards her. "I've been calling your name since you passed the training grounds." He says once he's caught up to her.

She shakes her head. "Sorry. I was lost in thought."

Jon takes her hand in his, frowning at how cold it is. "Your hands are freezing. Come on, let's get you inside."

Jon wraps his arm around her, leading her into the Keep. He's warm like he always is. Jon never seemed to get cold to Ella. His body was always warm to the touch, even when he had spent the day outside. On those days he seemed to be warmer. Jon walks with her up to their room, sitting her on their bed when they get there. He kneels in front of her, taking her hands again. They're ice cold but she's red in the face.

He leans up, kissing her forehead. "Are you catching a fever?"

Ella smiles at him, shaking her head. "No. I feel fine. Just shaken."

Jon nods, pulling her close. He had missed being able to spend time with her. They had been busy since the king had left and hardly had time to spend together. Jon breathes her in as he holds her. She smells faintly like lavender and something sweet. He can't help himself as he presses his lips to her neck, tasting her skin. He feels her shiver in his arms, her head tilting back to give him more space. He nips at her neck, soothing the skin with his tongue. His arms wrap around her, lifting her as he climbs onto the bed himself. He sets her further up on the bed, her head on the pillows. He presses his lips to hers as he hovers over her. He hadn't gotten to touch her like this in over a week. They had both been too tired.

Jon pushes her skirts up, his hand dipping to the wetness between her legs. He runs his fingers along her folds for a moment before undoing the laces of his pants. There's not enough time for them to be slow, even to undress but neither of them care. Jon presses into her, her slick passage taking him in easily. He will never forget how she feels around him, slick and hot and tight. He leans over her, slowly rocking his hips as his lips trace her neck again. Her hands are in his hair, silky strands tangled around her fingers.

There's no love making this time, not like they had shared during the time after their wedding. This is quick rutting, desperation to feel each other once again. It had been too long for both of them, their new busy schedule had been driving a wedge between them and this was the start of forcing it back. Jon's thrusts are short and deep, his hand between their bodies pushing her closer to the edge. He feels himself nearing, wanting her to be the one to push him over with her.

He presses his lips to hers to swallow her cries of pleasure. At night they did not bother to hide them, but the castle is awake now. No doubt he would get no end of grief for sneaking off to fuck his wife in the middle of the day if anyone heard them. He groans against her lips as he releases inside of her, a weight coming off his shoulders. Perhaps Theon had been right in that a woman could ease the heavy weight of duty off one's shoulders.

Jon stills over Ella, leaning down to press his forehead against hers. She cups his face, looking up into his eyes. "I missed you."

He kisses her softly for a moment. "I missed you too."

She smiles, kissing his nose before he rolls off of her. He grabs a wet cloth, cleaning her before cleaning himself, tying himself back into his pants. She watches him, smiling softly. He kneels in front of her once again, cupping her cheek. "I'm going to find Robb. Tonight I'm going to take my time with you. Make every inch of your body tremble before I'm finished." He nips playfully at her bottom lip before standing, heading for the door. Ella trembles already in anticipation, knowing she should get up to find Lady Stark, but she must compose herself again.

* * *

Bran wakes that night. Lady Stark delays her departure for a day in order to be with Bran for the first few hours. He remembers nothing yet, which of course is no help to Lady Stark's quest to find the owner of the dagger. She's still intent ongoing South despite Bran being awake. Ella knows Bran and Rickon will be upset when she leaves, but Ella will be there for them until Lady Stark returns.

Robb enlists the help of the stableboy Hodor, a giant of a man, but a gentle, simple-minded one, to help Bran move about the castle and get some air after being cooped up for over a month in bed. Ella can tell he's upset about his mother leaving him so soon after he woke up. She had been determined though, the urgency of the situation clear, but not to a degree that Ella could understand. She knows there's more that's going on that she hasn't been told about, but she can't be too upset. She had lied to their faces after they had put their trust in her enough to tell her about the assassin. She knows if they ever find out, they'll never forgive her. But she has to risk it. She has to figure some things out before the truth comes out.


	11. Author's Note

So, I know it's been a while. I just want to make it very clear that I fully intend to finish this story. I just got really busy last month with finals and then I started physical therapy so I'm in that twice a week right now and that takes up a good 2-3 hour chunk of my day and then the new term started last week so I'm totally bogged down right now. I'm planning to start working on this story again here pretty soon, but probably not until the new season starts. There's just a few things I have to tweak, some things I have to work out that's going to take seeing the direction they go with the last season before I can iron them out completely. So don't worry, I haven't given up on this story. I just haven't had the time to sit down and write like I want to.


End file.
